


right through the cracks

by Batman



Series: jaywalkers [12]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Pet Store, F/M, M/M, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 02:53:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6936241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batman/pseuds/Batman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Actually,' Tsukki says, and he smirks and leans forward and continues in a whisper, and that's when Koutarou knows they need to cut him off for the night. 'Between you and me, it's <i>totally</i> about the power trip.'</p><p>There's a beat of silence, during which Kuroo manages to look simultaneously like a proud dad and a worried babysitter, and after which Iwaizumi guffaws.</p><p>‘Owned,' he says to Oikawa. 'Get back to your pizza now.'</p><p>Today in jaywalking: the annual December apocalypse, life-altering moments feat. Kuroo's Cherry Red Prius, and a whole lot of rolled prints.</p>
            </blockquote>





	right through the cracks

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [полный провал](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12596188) by [named_Juan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/named_Juan/pseuds/named_Juan)



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO JAYWALKERS! On May 17, 2015, I dragged my hungover (jk I don't get hangovers) ass to a McDonald's in the middle of the French alps at 7 in the morning and sat down to write about Tsukki dragging his hungover (he does get hangovers) ass to a café at 7 in the morning. We've come so far.
> 
> I set up an [FAQ post](http://sturlsons.tumblr.com/post/144522091774/baby-protag-tsukki-drawn-with-love-by-soodyo) with some answers and behind-the-scenes action. CLICK AWAY.
> 
> Onto the fic: I know I said this the last time or something, but if possible, I was even more cheerful and beam-y while writing this instalment. You know how like, you put cupcakes in the oven and you know you're making cupcakes but you're still so surprised and happy when they come back out? That sort of thing.
> 
> THAT'S ENOUGH CHEESE TO LAST UNTIL JAYWALKERS' NEXT BIRTHDAY. I also feel like I should've used "anniversary" but it's too late now.
> 
> (Title from "I'm Yours" by Jason Mraz.)

Mid-December essentially means that Koutarou has to get his shit together. There's no other, more graceful way to put it. And anyway, if there were other, more graceful ways to put it, Koutarou sure as fuck wouldn't go for _those._ Mid-December doesn't leave time for grace. Sure, winter break begins in a week, but it's also like _winter break begins in a week._ It's like all professors simultaneously jolt out of the half-asleep state they've been in throughout the year and start, like, banging their fists on the tables and shrieking _ASSIGNMENTS NOW._

Which is great and all, but Koutarou is a normal student. Being a normal student means that he hasn't actually done over fifty percent of his assignments on time and now has to turn them all in out of nowhere. (Well, not out of nowhere. Considering that it's his third year one would figure that he knows how the demands of professors work, but, well.) Which is also great and all, but Koutarou is a _photography_ major. After a while, there really isn't something like a written assignment. There was that one horrific art history class he had to take in his first year, but the best thing about being done with foundation years is that, well, you're done with foundation years. No one has to pretend to give a shit about Monet anymore.

Which is _also_ great and all, but that means that his last minute assignments almost all involve actual photography. He doesn't mind that in theory— he didn't pick photography after drawing a fucking paper from a hat— but when he has a week and projects that range from studio to _analog_ , he's got a bit of a fucking problem.

This bit of a fucking problem leads him to actually turn to the part of his life that _isn't_ Akaashi Keiji, and really, it's not about his Slight Akaashi Thing when he says that he regrets this current obligation. It's more about the fact that while Kuroo is basically the most uncooperative model on the planet (when he knows he's being one) there are others who are not far behind, and also about the fact that desperate times call for desperate measures like asking your classmates to model for you, and lastly, the fact that Koutarou's current model is a result of the two previous facts. Like he said, Kuroo's the shittiest model ever but Konoha isn't something to write home about either.

'HOW HARD IS IT TO SIT STILL?' Koutarou says. 'YOU'RE NOT EVEN STANDING. YOU'RE SITTING. YOU'RE SITTING ON A COUCH.'

'It's _your_ couch,' Konoha says lazily. 'Who knows how many times you've fucked on it?'

' _I don't perform coitus on couches,_ ' Koutarou hisses, which is half-true anyway. He'd totally perform coitus on couches if, well, Akaashi was onboard with that. Which he isn't. Well, not that Koutarou knows, because he's only slept with Akaashi once. Yet. Right. 'Not on that couch at least. _Now_ will you sit still?'

'Maybe. You promise you'll convince Sugawara to work with me?'

'I _already did_ ,' Koutarou says. 'I'm a man of my word. Sit still, I have about half an hour of sunlight left and I need it to bounce off your ugly hair. One last fucking picture, Konoha.'

From next door, he hears a loud, excited voice that can in no possible way belong to Tsukki. He guesses the other kids must be over, and turns back to Konoha, who's now inspecting his nails.

'Fuck it,' he says, and starts to click. The moment the shutter goes off for the first time, Konoha snaps back into position, just like Koutarou knew he would. They might all be slightly assholeish around here, but they're both in the same class and both talk about their professor with apt words stolen from Sawamura describing _his_ professor.

('You don't understand,' Sawamura had said. 'It's not about the paper being worth sixty percent. It's about _who's_ making the paper. It's _Nekomata._ '

'And what's wrong with Nekomata?'

'Devil, apocalypse, etcetera.')

Dealing with devil, apocalypse, etcetera as a collective entity calls for cooperation. So Koutarou is glad to finally have Konoha's, for more than one reason. The main reason is definitely that the sunlight does great things with Konoha's hair at a good angle, and the second reason is that the sooner Koutarou gets done with this, the sooner he can gear up to party. (Reason one point five is that Akaashi'll be done with his prints in a bit and Koutarou doesn't want to be late in meeting up with him for their super-late mid-December apocalypse lunch.)

'All done,' he says triumphantly. 'I told you it's one last picture.'

'You've also kept me here all afternoon. Why should I have trusted you?'

'Because I'm scoring you a photoshoot with the most beautiful being on campus?'

'I thought you'd think your guy's the most beautiful being on campus.'

Koutarou clears his throat and nearly drops his UV filter. _His guy._ Well, he's not going to lie. It's been a week and he still sees Akaashi's bare shoulders and bared neck in slatted light every time he closes his eyes. But the more he thinks about it, the more he's worried it's going to find a way out of his chest and show itself to the world, and he can't have that. So he clears his throat again and shrugs, unscrews the lens.

His phone buzzes just as Konoha stands up and stretches. 'All right, we're not keeping each other any longer. I have to go take pictures of some damn bridges and shit. See you tomorrow?'

'Vertigo? Fuck yeah. Change your shoes before, though.' Koutarou makes sure he raises his eyebrows as high as they'll go when he looks at Konoha's tragic crocs.

'Don't fuckin' talk, polo fucker. It's December, shit.'

'Get out.'

He's leaving himself ten minutes later, after texting back a quick _on my way_ to Akaashi. As he steps out into the dimming sunlight, a very small, very fast thing barrels right into him.

'Whoa, whoa,' he says, lifting the little kid a little by the shoulders before realising that it's Hinata. 'Watch where you're going, kiddo.'

'Bokuto-san!' Hinata _beams_ right up at him, and while Koutarou's got a pretty wide smile himself and is regularly blinded by Kuroo and Sugawara's grins, Hinata is something else. 'You know how you were always saying that I should just hug everyone ever?'

''course I do!'

'Well,' Hinata says, stepping back and pointing to his shirt. It's then that Koutarou notices a giant _FREE HUGS_ on it. It's one size too big on the boy, hanging off his shoulders a little. It's officially the most adorable thing Koutarou's ever seen in his life. 'Say hi to Hinata the Hug Guy!'

'A brand name already, huh?' But Koutarou's opening his arms, and Hinata's jumping right into them. He really is such a tiny fucking thing, after all. It's so good for the soul.

'And I'm gonna go around on my scooter, and it's really for free, 'xcept maybe I'll take polaroid selfies with them, if they're fine with it, I mean,' Hinata chirps in his ear as he spots another _not_ so tiny fucking thing exit Tsukki's apartment. Namely, Tsukki himself.

'Amazing,' Tsukki says, in a voice that indicates that it's anything but. Koutarou gives him a giant grin as he puts Hinata down and waves them off.

Downstairs, Akaashi's looking as perfect as ever, thick scarf wound around his neck, nose and cheeks just a little red from the cold— Koutarou feels the slightest bit guilty— and giant rolls of prints in his arms.

'Hey,' Koutarou says, reaching out to take a couple of the rolls. 'Long wait at the printers'?'

'A little bit,' Akaashi replies as they start walking. 'I saw Yachi-san, though.'

'Nice. Where d'you wanna eat?'

'Anywhere, honestly.' Akaashi sighs, just a slight thing, and loops his arm through Koutarou's. Koutarou's pretty sure his heart has never risen to his throat this fucking fast in his life, but he just clears his throat and keeps walking. Mid-December must be getting to Akaashi, too. 'I'm _very_ hungry.'

'Anywhere, then,' Koutarou says. Akaashi leans his head against his shoulder briefly, and Koutarou clears his throat again. He doesn't care how obvious he is; he thinks he'd be obvious as fuck to Akaashi even if he didn't do anything at all. He thinks it's always been that way. He thinks maybe Akaashi's always been that obvious too.

 

 **Me [16:32]**  
do u ever think like life is just a fairytale?

 **Sugarplum [16:35]**  
I don’t. I major in English literature. We were made to read “Wuthering Heights” in our first semester.

 

●●●

 

Hitoka only loves December for one reason. Well, arguably she loves December for a whole bunch of reasons, like for example, when it snows, she loves that because no matter how old she gets there's always this novelty about snow that she can't get enough of, and then the colours of the world all change in a way, and she can't get enough of that either because it makes her marvel how the same trees and buildings she's used to seeing in bright greens and rich browns somehow all put on layers of grey and quiet down. But apart from things like that, she'd still say that there is only one reason why she loves December, and that is hot chocolate. And she doesn't mean to be biased or anything of the sort, but it's true the hot chocolate she makes at _Le Petit Birdie_ tastes better than any hot chocolate she's ever had. But that could also just be the fact that she's been standing in this queue for over an hour now and the hot chocolate is her only form of sustenance.

 

 **Hinata [15:18]**  
I SHOWED TSUKKI THE TSHIRT

 **Me [15:18]**  
You did? Did he like it? (・▽・)

 **Hinata [15:19]**  
he said whatever floats my boat, but i hugged him and he totally blushed!!! are you still in the queue???

 **Me [15:20]**  
Yes! ( •́ ∧ •̀ ) I think I'll be done soon, though. Then it's puppy time!

 **Hinata [15:20]**  
o(≧∇≦o) PUPPIES

 

Hitoka looks up again and sighs. There are also some reasons she doesn't like December; for example, it really does get awfully cold and she has to keep beanies on all the time because  she can't stand wind getting into her ears, and other such things, but the latest reason she's found is that December apparently means the apocalypse for everyone on campus. It makes sense, though; the print shop, which was relatively calm throughout the semester, is now bursting with possibly every student ever who has had to print something as a part of submissions, and the same thing happened last semester too so she should've expected it, but the Christmas cheer made her forget about how very many things students have to turn in.

It's then that she spots the Beautiful Saturday Person on the other side of the room. He looks just as beautiful as ever, with a large steaming coffee glass in his hand and a scarf that Hitoka can't figure out if she wants to congratulate him for, or steal. It's actually a little comforting, she thinks, that even the most beautiful of people are subject to queues at the print shop like the rest of the mortal world. It really can't be so bad to wait, after all. Hitoka takes another sip of her hot chocolate and smiles to herself.

 

 **Me [15:56]**  
I'll design a shirt for you over Christmas, if you want!

 **Hinata [15:56]**  
Yes.

 

Her prints are finally almost ready, which is perfect timing since she's due at the dog shelter nearby in about ten minutes. Honestly, it's just a matter of luck that both places happen to be so nearby because otherwise she'd have had to run across campus holding giant rolls in her hands and trying not to drop them into puddles, or something, and she would probably have ended up doing it anyway and honestly, at this point, Hitoka isn't running on a whole lot of sleep and she's very sure that she would just sit cross-legged on the road and start to cry if she dropped her print in a puddle. She doesn't want that to happen, because imagine being a cheerful pedestrian in the buzz before Christmas holidays, walking around with presents and coffee and then seeing a short blonde girl crying on the ground, surrounded by half-unrolled prospective career posters.

 

 **Me [16:00]**  
All done! I'll see you in five minutes! *(*´∀｀*)☆

 

Tucking her prints carefully under one arm after texting her friend, she smiles again. That wasn't so bad, after all, and even the Beautiful Saturday Person seems to be getting his prints ready. She actually manages to wave her now-empty chocolate mug at him, and he smiles and waves back. Hitoka grins wider and steps out of the shop into the cold, and spares a thought about how well things go sometimes.

 

●●●

 

All right, Koutarou may be a romantic but even he can safely say that Tsukki is not as pleasurable a walking companion as Akaashi. Or half the country's population.

'I just don't see the purpose of throwing yourself at other people,' he says, hauling his backpack a little higher over his shoulder. 'Much less when you're so small that you're practically nonexistent.'

Make that three quarters of the country's population.

'I think it's the cutest thing in the world,' Koutarou says firmly. 'Don't discourage him from his dreams just because you're a prickly brat.'

'I am not a _prickly brat_ ,' Tsukki says. 'And I'll have you know, I didn't kill him when he hugged me.'

'Aww, Tsukki! Touching.'

The thing is, Koutarou actually knows Tsukki well enough by now to know when it's nerves speaking. He can't imagine why Tsukki would be nervous about officially meeting the guys. Or, well, he can't imagine why without kind of cackling to himself a little, but that's for him and his camera to know. Apart from that, he really can't think of any way in which it could go wrong. It's only Sawamura and Sugawara's place— as if it'd be anywhere else— for fuck's sake. Tsukki _knows_ Sugawara. In fact, Tsukki kind of knows everyone. He might only have been to like two and a half of Koutarou's parties, but there isn't anyone in the group that he hasn't seen yet. There is literally no reason for him to keep pushing his glasses up his nose the way he's doing it. Unless, like, his glasses are actually slipping down his nose. Which they aren't.

Tsukki's got a nice nose.

Koutarou takes a deep, deep breath and turns back to their path. It's nearly dinner time, so it's pitch dark, the footpath only lit by streetlamps. It's much colder than it was during lunch, so much so that even he's finally put on a jacket. Tsukki doesn't seem to be super tolerant of it either, because he's got what looks like a hoodie _and_ a coat, not to mention the beanie. He really looks like a little kid, and really, Koutarou wonders if the first-years were always this _young_.

'How's December going? I'm sure you have a fuckton of assignments to turn in.'

Tsukki's quiet for a while, and Koutarou's just about beginning to think that he's lost the guy to that typical anxiety first-years always get about academic shit (before they realise that everything is futile and the only reality is, like, dubstep) when he speaks up.

'Public finance is a little difficult,' he says, in a soft voice.

'Hey,' Koutarou says immediately. 'Don't sweat it. I'm sure you'll be fine, you work almost as hard as Tetsu does.'

'I hope so.' He'd kind of expected Tsukki to snap something like _I know I'll be fine,_ and he kind of wishes that he'd been right.

'And hey, Asahi's pretty good at that stuff too. You could totally ask him.'

'What, that noodle market?' Tsukki's face looks like he totally hadn't meant for that to slip out, so Koutarou waits a polite second before bursting into laughter. 'I mean—'

'Oh, Tsukki,' Koutarou sighs, wiping away a fake tear just as they round the corner to Sawamura's place. 'Always be like this.'

 

●●●

 

Matsuoka is waiting under the streetlamp outside the dog shelter when Hitoka shows up. Her normally styled hair is in an auburn bun on top of her head, and it's so big that Hitoka's actually a little worried about Matsuoka's neck, but she's seen worse submission-crisis hairstyles in her life, including on her own mother. Hitoka vaguely notes in her head that she has to text her mother about holiday tickets as she waves to Matsuoka and takes in the rest of her attire. She's definitely not dressed for the cold in cutoffs like those, but at least she has a thick-looking sweater. Hitoka uncurls her scarf and tucks her prints in tighter as she hurries to wrap it around Matsuoka's neck.

'Your neck is all bare,' she says, and Matsuoka laughs.

'Nice to see you too,' she sings. Hitoka smiles. 'We're going inside anyway.'

Despite it being a universal fact that puppies are the most painfully sweet and loving creatures and Hitoka being consequently in love with every single one she sees, and kittens too, of course, the truth is that she has never visited the shelter before. She frequents the print shop often enough and she's always kind of remembered in the back of her mind that there's a shelter nearby, but she's honestly been putting off exploring some parts of the campus _forever_. At least she's going to see it now, and be surrounded by puppies for a while, who will hopefully not pee on her prints because then she will have to sit cross-legged on the floor of a dog shelter and cry.

Matsuoka is actually the one who wants to adopt a puppy. She wasn't stubborn enough to refuse to move in with her older brother at least for her first year, but she was definitely stubborn enough to negotiate a pet deal in the process. Hitoka admires her, especially because she's met said older brother once and he is absolutely terrifying. Which doesn't say a lot since Hitoka is more or less in mortal fear of everyone on campus whose shoulder is above her head— which is _quite a lot_ of the campus— but still. Matsuoka decided somewhere around October that the puppy would be her Christmas celebration, and Hitoka had enthusiastically signed on to help her choose.

She doesn't regret that decision in the slightest even though she has a lot of things to work on once she gets home, because she's read all those articles about universities in America who bring in puppies and dogs during exams to cheer the students up, so she's sure that being surrounded by puppies can only bring good to her general wellbeing.

When they step past the reception and into the main section, she's proven correct _and_ wrong almost immediately. Correct in that there are, indeed, lots of puppies everywhere and she has never been this immediately bowled over by the cuteness of something in her life— and wrong in that there are, indeed, lots of puppies everywhere and she has never been this immediately wounded by the cuteness of something in her life.

'Oh, no,' Matsuoka whispers. 'Yachi, how am I going to choose?'

'Don't ask me,' Hitoka says faintly. 'They said they're sending someone over, right?'

'Yeah, a volunteer. _Yachi. The puppies._ '

Hitoka is _trying_ not to look around too much because she simply can't get over any of it. Her first fear was that the puppies' cages would be too small or uncomfortable and then she would have to sit on the floor and cry for reasons unrelated to the destruction of her prints, but at least she can see that they're perfectly spacious. The next problem is the most important one, which is, puppies. There are _so many_ , in all shapes and sizes and colours, and all of them yipping enthusiastically at the sight of newcomers. She feels ready to cry when she spots a particularly tiny white one, a labrador pup, she thinks, falling over itself to get closer to them.

'This was such a bad idea,' she says, and Matsuoka whimpers and nods, but well, they must see this through now. Just then, the back door of the room opens and Hitoka looks up, grateful for _any_ kind of distraction—

—but this one.

 _Any_ kind of distraction but this one. She prefers her distractions _not_ six feet tall with freckles and ponytails and the sleeves and collars of their checkered shirt sticking out of a sweatshirt with the shelter's logo. That is how Hitoka prefers her distractions.

'Oh,' Yamaguchi says. 'Hello.'

Yachi fixes her eyes back on the labrador.

 

●●●

 

This is the best Koutarou has felt in a while. And that's saying something, because this year has really taken him to new heights in _holy shit I knew life is fucking great, I knew it._ Even in those heights, this is a new one. It's so fucking cold that there's condensation all over the glass doors that lead to Sugawara's balcony, and half of them are actually switching to warmed-up ciders instead of their usual cold drinks, and Oikawa's throwing a hissy fit every time someone steps out onto the balcony to take a call. It's amazing. It's so fucking amazing, as they all talk over each other to catch up, Ushijima glued to his Kindle, Kuroo on the armrest of Tsukki's armchair, fiercely arguing with Himuro as usual.

No one's really asked (even in secret) about Tsukki yet, which Koutarou thinks is awfully kind of all of them, especially since he really understands now that it's kind of the first time he's sitting down with them. He seems the most comfortable with Akaashi, which actually makes perfect sense to Koutarou. He wants to listen in on whatever conversation they're having, but he's blissfully spaced out after the day's work and whatever the supervillain bird parents are cooking smells amazing, and he doesn't want to think about anything in particular.

When Sawamura and Sugawara actually come away from the kitchen to lean against the back of his couch and say hi, Kuroo straightens up and looks around, nods sideways at Tsukki as if to say five hundred more things than he's actually saying.

'You've met Tsukishima,' he says. 'Tsukki, the guys. The guys, Tsukki.'

'He actually introduced himself before you got here, sparkles,' Oikawa says. 'We don't always need your social skills.'

'After all that I taught you,' Kuroo says, feigning hurt. 'But really, did you do names and all?'

They actually didn't, which forces Oikawa to admit defeat, which he does in the form of pouring Tsukki out his first drink of the evening. Tsukki actually accepts it with a shy nod and they clink their glasses. Sugawara's beaming all over the place.

It's amazing. It's so fucking amazing, Koutarou's over the fucking moon. Sawamura's one hell of a cook when he gives a shit, the sun is down, and Koutarou's sure Konoha got whatever pictures of bridges he needed, and Akaashi's been unconsciously pressing closer to him for a few minutes now, or consciously. Koutarou sets his glass down on the coffee table before turning to smile down at him.

'Hey,' he says.

'Hey,' Akaashi says. Koutarou sincerely wonders, not for the first time, if he's ever going to calm the fuck down with it comes to this guy. Then he wonders if they have time before dinner’s ready, but it only takes a few more minutes after they sneak off for Sugawara to hound them down (well, not really hound, the apartment isn't _that_ big).

'I appreciate being moderately instrumental in your meeting,' he says sweetly once they're done straightening themselves up after his interruption, 'but kindly do not make out in my bedchamber.'

'Yeah, because you use it so much,' Koutarou shoots back. 'Isn't this more like guest room, Mister Lives-Up-Sawamura's—'

'What I do, and do not do with Daichi,' Sugawara cuts in, 'is not only _not_ your area of expertise, but is also irrelevant here. Get out, I need to change shirts.'

It's only then that Koutarou notices the stain on Sugawara's current shirt. It looks lethal, and Koutarou actually feels a little bit of sympathy for the guy. Sawamura might be one hell of a cook when he gives a shit, but Sugawara has to put up with a lot of spillage. Koutarou knows there's a joke in there somewhere, but he can't find it at the moment.

'It's an ugly shirt anyway,' Koutarou offers, and frankly doesn't understand why both Sugawara _and_ Akaashi have to glare at him for that. 'Right, I'm scramming.'

Koutarou joins Sawamura at the kitchen counter and tears off a couple of towels to help him while Akaashi, more collected than him, settles down beside Ushijima and politely enquires after his reading. Even though Koutarou literally just tore off the damn towels, he lets the edge of one sink into the sauce as he watches Akaashi's profile.

'Be useful or go sit at a better vantage point,' Sawamura snaps. 'I need this shit off the counter before Suga's back.'

Koutarou absently flips him the bird.

By the time dinner is ready, they're all ready to eat all of Sugawara's plants, probably. The ambitious fuckers have made pizza, and what's more, excelled at it. Koutarou, who's been living only on various kinds of rice since submissions season started, could actually cry with joy. He goes at his slice like a five year old, and shamelessly tunes himself out of the conversation until he's gotten at least three in. Even Asahi's scarfing his plate down; December really takes its toll.

'What does the kid study, Kuroo?' Oikawa asks. 'Something where he has an excuse to get off on all-nighters the way you do?'

'Economics,' Tsukki answers, and Koutarou actually blinks for a second before turning to him. It's really not like Tsukki to answer, he thinks, until he sees the two spots of colour high on Tsukki's cheeks. 'I study economics. And I _do_ pull the occasional all-nighter.'

It can't be. He can't already be _tipsy._ They're not even going _out_ tonight.

'That's impressive,' Oikawa says, which is rich coming from someone whose major no one fucking knows. 'You don't look like the teaching type to me, though.'

Tsukki puts his elbows on the table and leans forward, and Koutarou sits back in his chair and raises his glass. 'We can do more than teaching, you know.'

'Oh?' Oikawa puts his own glass down, and out of the corner of his eye Koutarou sees Kuroo's hackles rise. 'I wouldn't have pegged you for an investment analyst either, though.'

Beside Koutarou, Akaashi leans forward too, just a little. Koutarou isn't worried like Kuroo because he actually knows Tsukki better than Kuroo does, and he can also remember that Oikawa never means harm. _But_ he also knows that this is as close to war as their dinner is going to get, and he's never been more interested.

'Hardly,' Tsukki says. 'I'm going into actuarial management.'

'Ah yes, radical difference,' Oikawa says. Koutarou wonders how many breakdowns Asahi's had in his head by now; the guy could never take a debate, even short-lived ones. 'Is there a salary difference or something? The actuary shit?'

'Actually,' Tsukki says, and he smirks and leans forward and continues in a whisper, and that's when Koutarou knows they need to cut him off for the night. 'Between you and me, it's _totally_ about the power trip _._ '

There's a beat of silence, during which Kuroo manages to look simultaneously like a proud dad and a worried babysitter, and after which Iwaizumi guffaws.

‘Owned,' he says to Oikawa. 'Get back to your pizza now.'

The argument that it starts between the two of them is much more heated than the exchange that they all just witnessed, but the moment of interest's been broken and the _get back to your pizza now_ was more of a universal instruction. It's been a while since they've had someone so thoroughly fresh with them, and now that Tsukki's so clearly _welcome_ , Koutarou realises that he'd been a little worried himself. Now that it's done, though, he can't imagine _why_ he'd been worried. Tsukki belongs, almost in a way different from Akaashi's way of belonging. Koutarou can't put his finger on it but it doesn't bother him as long as even Akaashi's smiling and getting back to his pizza now. God, he hopes the two of them always get along, Tsukki and Akaashi.

That's when it happens. At a climactic point in whatever fight Oikawa and Iwaizumi are having, Oikawa turns away from him, huffing an exhale, and says, ‘I really don’t know why you must always be this way. We’re friends, you know.’

‘Evaporate,’ Iwaizumi tells him.

Now, Iwaizumi telling Oikawa to evaporate, or any other equivalent, is honestly the most common thing that they experience when they're all together, so it's not like anyone's too worried or anything. No one is all that worried in general about things here. Except Asahi, who is usually worried about everything in the universe ever.

What is actually the surprising thing is that Tsukki...Tsukki kind of laughs. Not the derisive snorting that Koutarou always sees him engaging in, but an actual giggle that develops into a peal of laughter. He's never heard Tsukki laugh in all the while that he's known him, and honestly, it's a fucking incredible sound. He didn't know the kid could sound that sweet, really, and he’s actually had his share of amazing laughs for the fortnight.

As it turns out, the laugh is actually cute enough to pull everyone _else's_ attention. The table gradually quiets down until everyone is borderline creepily looking at Tsukki, who's looking down at his plate with no idea that he's the reason Sawamura almost has a hawk-like expression on his face, transcending even his usual supervillain bird looks.

Kuroo, on the other hand, has a desperately straight visage which screams _I want to actually usher everyone out of this room so that they never hear this laugh again._ Koutarou's never been this delighted in his life. It's so refreshingly selfish.

He's still cutting Tsukki off for the night, though.

 

●●●

 

Normally, the first thing Hitoka would notice about someone is what colours they are composed of on that particular day. Matsuoka's hair, while messy, works beautifully with the dove grey of her sweater, just as much as Yaku-san's hair, even on its best days, does _not_ work with the apron of _Le Petit Rosemary_. Hitoka doesn't know if that's instinct passed on from her mother or just her affinity for design (also passed on from her mother) but the fact remains that she evaluates in colours.

It still takes her five minutes to recover enough from the general sight of Yamaguchi to register what a soft, soft yellow the colour of his sweatshirt is. Maybe Hitoka is still running on hot chocolate fumes and is overwhelmed by all the tiny little _dogs_ around them, but she really thinks that if someone could weave sunshine into a sweatshirt, it would be this sweatshirt. She also considers the possibility that it is the person wearing the sweatshirt that determines what it looks like, which is something that she really should have considered a while ago.

'This is Momo,' Yamaguchi is saying as he plays with the paws of a little brown puppy whose ears are so floppy that Hitoka is half-convinced that they can't be real. 'He's four months old, and his best friend—' he takes one of Momo's paws in his hand, and it looks so _small_ between his long fingers that Hitoka finds herself blushing just at the sight, and really, technically speaking if there is already a volunteer here— he _volunteers_ at _dog shelters_ — she isn't needed in making the choice of which of these unbearable balls of fluff Matsuoka should adopt, and she can make her exit and go back to working on the logo of that one herbal tea brand that she's very much supposed to be working on. Yamaguchi takes one of Momo's paws in his hand and wiggles it towards one of the cages to the right. '—his best friend is Pochi, the little pomeranian over there. They always play together.'

'Pochi,' Matsuoka repeats faintly. Hitoka really thinks that they should have brought someone like Tsukishima-kun along, because she really does care for Tsukishima-kun but she also thinks that he isn't exactly the kind of person who would lose his heart at the sight of a puppy, and would hence be able to help them come to a decision. 'This is definitely more difficult than I thought.'

'I don't want to sound very pretentious,' Yamaguchi says in a serious voice, which sounds all the more amazing because Momo is currently scrabbling up his chest and hopping into the crook of his elbow, 'but I hope that you know that adopting a pet is a very huge responsibility. If your schedule doesn't allow for it...'

Hitoka looks around as Matsuoka and Yamaguchi get into a detailed discussion about the dog she apparently has back home, and finds the little white labrador again. He's still pressed to the front of his cage, looking at them a little wistfully. Almost without realising, Hitoka gets up off the floor and moves towards him, crouching in front of his cage.

'Hi,' she whispers. 'What's your name?'

He has a collar but there's no name tag on it, which makes Hitoka frown, but she figures that he's a very new entry in that case. He's small enough to fit in the palms of her hands, and that is _really_ small because Hitoka doesn't really have big hands, unlike Yamaguchi. She puts two fingers through the thin bars of the cafe and chucks him carefully under his chin. Her heart melts so fast that she thinks she could actually just pass out in the middle of the room right now and wake up in January. So very _small._

'We just adopted him last week,' Yamaguchi says from behind her, and she jumps. 'The owners couldn't take the entire litter so they gave them away.'

'No name yet?'

'No name yet.'

'Okay,' Hitoka says, and strokes the puppy's ear with a finger. 'He's adorable.'

'Aren't they all?'

She turns around, finally, withdrawing her hand and looking up at Yamaguchi. In the background, Matsuoka is on the phone with a face that says that she is most probably arguing with her brother. Momo is still in Yamaguchi's arms, so Hitoka reaches out and scratches the top of the puppy's head. He licks the heel of her hand and she giggles and retreats.

'They sure are,' she says.

 

●●●

 

In the end, Kuroo ends up offering to drive them back. Normally, they'd have been able to just walk home. Koutarou puts the emphasis on _normally,_ because Tsukki did not take kindly to the concept of being cut off, citing a terrible assignment and some classmate called Fuwa-fuwaru or something who needed his help with something that Tsukki himself did not understand, apparently, or some shit. The gist of it is that well past the tipping point of that kind of illegal giggle-fit he had at Oikawa's expense, more drinks were still consumed, and while he's not _Bubble Butt_ level of drunk, it'd definitely be a trip to drag his ass home.

Koutarou raises a _you really want me to come along_ eyebrow to Kuroo, who rolls his eyes and nods towards Akaashi. Koutarou rolls his eyes right back and resigns himself to say goodnight to Akaashi, who doesn't seem to need explaining.

'I hope he doesn't get hangovers,' he says, frowning a little in Tsukki's direction. 'Maybe you should put him on your couch?'

Koutarou turns towards Tsukki. It's not like he's swaying on the spot or stumbling around or anything, he's just being...difficult. Not even in a bad way, really, just...difficult. The kind of difficult where Koutarou wouldn't put it past him to have a sudden determination to go to McDonald's at midnight just to be an ass, which is why he doesn't want to walk him home. He doesn't think Tsukki's really going to be hungover, but he could potentially throw up. On Koutarou's couch.

'If I do, Konoha'll never help with my assignments again,' he says, and Akaashi stares at him. It occurs to Koutarou too late that there's no way Akaashi could know what he's talking about, but at that point Kuroo's already shepherding Tsukki towards the car, so all he can do is shrug and lean in for one last kiss.

He bounds over to where Kuroo's closing the shotgun door, and gets into the backseat, stretching out with a sigh. They do this sometimes, because as much as Koutarou loves running around and getting up to shit, sometimes he just wants to lie down and listen to some good music while Kuroo drives. Music's probably out of the question right now, or at least his preferred kind of music, which Tsukki's never really liked from what he can tell, but he doesn't really mind Kuroo's crap either.

Sure enough, he puts on _Take Five,_ and while Koutarou's used to the utterly random shit Kuroo sometimes has on his drive, Tsukki's sure not. He snorts and turns his entire body to face Kuroo. Koutarou throws an arm over his forehead and observes.

'Jazz?' Tsukki says. ' _Jazz? Jazz,_ Kuroo?'

Life is brilliant.

'I have the odd track here and there,' Kuroo answers easily, slowing as they come to a crossing. Koutarou watches the yellow lights and shadows move across the roof of the car, smiles at them for a moment, thinks about taking a picture before he turns his attention back to the front. 'You do remember all the French house that you force me to listen to.'

'That's _house_. This is _jazz._ You're so _lame,_ Kuroo _._ '

'I like French house,' Koutarou offers once he realises that the conversation is going nowhere; Kuroo's sleepy. 'French house is cool.'

'You,' Tsukki says, turning fully, again, this time to the back seat. 'I look at you and sometimes I think, _you know, he looks like the kind of person who wakes up and immediately listens to the Crazy Frog theme in the shower._ '

That pulls out what Koutarou fondly calls Kuroo's _broken toaster_ laugh, this full-out thing that strips him of any grace any human being is remotely capable of having. It also makes Tsukki turn back towards Kuroo with a look of open surprise on his face. Koutarou decides to stop offering anything, and tries to replay the _Crazy Frog_ theme in his head. It doesn't quite work, but he knows it's going to be stuck in his head throughout the morning.

By the time they pull up to their block, Tsukki is animatedly telling Kuroo about...some statistics shit that Koutarou can neither understand nor care about. Kuroo's mostly got his eyes on the road, but Koutarou knows he's listening. Even when he kills the ignition, he's still waiting for Tsukki to finish. Koutarou figures that he could easily make his exit, but he knows Kuroo would physically kill him if he tried.

So he just sits up a little, and waits as Tsukki notices the building and cuts himself short.

'Okay, that was fast, Kuroo,' he says. 'Also, I kind of feel like I've been in this car forever.'

'Poetic,' Kuroo says, but he's smiling as he reaches over to unbuckle the seatbelt Tsukki's struggling with. 'You're home now, though.'

'Yeah, I guess.' Tsukki sighs, actually _sighs_ , and unlocks his door, opening it slightly before slowing down. Koutarou really hopes he's not deciding to throw up _now_.

Then, in one swift move, he turns back around, almost falls forward, and kisses Kuroo's cheek. It's the quickest thing Koutarou's ever seen; a veritable _look ma no hands_ ; he's drawing back almost before he makes contact.

'Thank you,' he says, and he doesn’t add _Kuroo_. 'For the ride.'

Kuroo looks eighteen again.

Before he can say anything (if he was ever going to), Tsukki's already stumbling out of the car and slamming the door, and Koutarou sees him _sprinting_ up the stairs as he sits up fully.

Kuroo isn't even looking at the stairs. He's looking ahead, and after a second he brings his hand up to his cheek.

There is perfect silence for a few moments, during which Kuroo continues sitting in his seat, hand to his cheek, utterly dumbstruck. Then Koutarou lets out the most obnoxious laugh he has ever laughed in this short life of his.

He's waiting for Kuroo to join in, or at least stop looking like that, but when he does neither, Koutarou's own laugh fades out. He leans forward a little in his seat, waits.

'What am I doing?' Kuroo whispers. Even in the confines of the car, Koutarou can only just catch it. It's enough to make his stomach twist.

He leans forward further, gets a hand into Kuroo's hair, curling his fingers there, messing it up much worse than it already is. He tousles it until Kuroo breaks out of it and huffs, ducking away only to come back.

'You're doing _fine_ ,' Koutarou says. 'That's what you're doing.'

'Glad someone thinks so,' Kuroo laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> AS ALWAYS: I love [The Momager](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fyolette) even though she will never forgive me for giving Konoha crocs. She proposed "FLIP FLIPS" (a distressed typo), unlaced Nike Air's, and Adidas superstars, but let this be known that it is probably the only time in _jaywalkers_ history that I absolutely did not heed her advice. I know I'm going to be struck by lightning for the crocs. I know it.
> 
> You don't want to know the number of times I went "kuroCHUkkiiiiiii" out loud while writing this. You just don't want to know. 
> 
> You can find me on [Twitter](http://twitter.com/soldierpoetking) and [Tumblr](http://sturlsons.tumblr.com).


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